


Safehouse couch

by xX_wackamole_Xx



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Cheating, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 10:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20928710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xX_wackamole_Xx/pseuds/xX_wackamole_Xx
Summary: Clover gets little hot and bothered while ducking the cops with Wolf





	Safehouse couch

Wolf’s rifle hit the floor of the safehouse with a crash, the heavy steel scratching the oak floor. His shoes dragged behind him, blood trailing from his legs. The fancy, Italian leather was marred with bright red blood, mostly his. A ragged hole in his upper left thigh had leaked down both of his black pant legs, the fabric doing little to absorb the flow. The muscular swede’s heavy left arm was draped over Clover’s narrow shoulders. Clover struggled to drag Wolf to the couch in the corner of the room. The old, rusted springs of the couch creaked as Wolf hit the cushions.  
The Irishwoman had already removed her mask, leaving it on the floor of the getaway van. Wolf’s, by contrast, was firmly stuck to his face by the sweat one builds up while hauling duffel bags in the DC heat. The swede, with his affinity for silence, could contain the screams and oaths that normally accompanied a gunshot wound, but could not contain an occasional groan, muffled through the thick plastic of the dirty, suffocating mask.  


Oh well, Clover thought, better than gurgles. She looked at the hole in his leg as she applied new gloves. She had ridden all the way here with her finger in the hole, but the change was less for sanitation and more for a break while she sized up the wound. Clover reached in her pockets for a knife, throwing out a baton, a toothbrush, and a wad of money as fast as possible to find a simple folder. She kneeled next to his left leg and eased the knife’s blade under the wet hole in the black fabric. She worked slowly, careful to not poke the swede with the diligently sharpened tip of the knife. She worked a slit down the length of the pant leg, opening it all the way down to the end of the leg.  


“Check the other side for an exit wound” Wolf said in a firm, but labored voice. Clover let out a sigh of relief as she felt around the top of Wolf’s leg to find unbroken skin.  


“It’s a wee bit purple” Clover whispered  


“If the skin is only slightly discolored, it means internal bleeding isn’t too bad”  


Clover could see the base of a small bullet down the short channel in Wolf’s leg. She didn’t dare remove it. They’d have time to get to a surgeon, eventually. The blood had to be stopped however, and so Clover ripped open a packet of hemostatic gauze and began carefully placing it in the hole. Her delicate burglar’s fingers danced over the wound, trying to disturb it as little as possible. Her small hand was suddenly grasped at the wrist by Wolf’s large, callused fist.  


“Just. Fucking. Ram. It. In.” The swede struggled. Clover hurried anew, knowing the hemostatic agent probably hurt like hell. All that was emitted from Wolf was a slight gasp. Clover wrapped the wound and stood up. She looked up and down his frame for any wounds they both missed. There was a hole in Wolf’s armor. Panicked, Clover bent over Wolf and started to saw at the straps, before Wolf pulled a quick release wire and the whole vest came sliding off. The backside of the front plate of Wolf’s vest, like his shirt, was unbroken, but there was a large swelling where the bullet had deformed it. Clover ripped open Wolf’s shirt to find a large, black bruise covering his lower chest. It was bad, but he’d live.  


“Bloody hell, that’s a shiner” Clover muttered. Wolf grunted an agreement. “Why didn’t you just tell me about that one, big guy?”. Clover stared at Wolf’s exposed chest and leg.  


“Nothing you can do for it, little one”  


“Nothing I can do?” She reached down, and slowly dragged her fingertips across the discolored patch. Wolf started to draw breath faster. “Does that hurt, hun?” Clover asked. Wolf slowly shook his head. Ticklish then Clover thought, smiling to herself. I won’t ask if he is, it’d insult the lad- aye, the man, he’s old enough to be mah dadai. She shook the thought from her mind as fast as possible. Without realizing, her hand had slipped from his chest, across his belt, and down his leg to her bandage job. It was good work, given the pressures of the situation. It was frankly a miracle Clover had made it out unhurt. Clover feigned an examination of the bandage, craving the sensation of her fingers on Wolf’s skin. Wolf had been cold to her, given her age and lack of experience with being shot at. She was certain that there were hostages who had better conversations with the man than she ever had. He was different now. He seemed to be hiding his pain from her. The man might have been a psychopath, but he still had to have functional nerve endings, right? He carefully coached her in trauma care, something you don’t learn by sneaking into mansions at 2am. He had started to seem like more of an authority, as opposed to a wierd, silent loner who was beloved by the rest of the crew.  


Clover’s churning thoughts were abruptly interrupted by something hot pressing against the top of her hand. She looked down, and her heart skipped a beat. Wolf’s manhood, covered by the thin layer of his cotton underwear, pressed against clover’s gloved hand. Clover felt a heat in her lower body as the cock continued to grow, the head of his penis slowly crossing every ligament and bone on the top of her hand, the border of the head slowly rising and falling as it rode the small ridges. Clover could feel his pulse, could damn near hear it, as the soft fabric stretched thinner and thinner. He wasn’t all that long- yet- but damn he was thick.  


Clover had been in control of her- urges- while she was with the gang. The hustle of everyday life kept her distracted, and she would find the time every few days to hide in a gas station bathroom and fuck herself silly on her fingers. It had been a while since she’d had a penis- nay, a right, heavy, meaty cock. A strong cocklust began to grow in her, something she had successfully repressed over the last few months. She remembered her catholic upbringing, and her youthful obsession with knob ever since she had seen the first few pictures on the internet. She remembered sneaking out of her school to St. Bart’s across the river, and going to see her first real one. She remembered the young, nervous man who had taken her to his dorm, and his miserable, drunken, nervous state, completely unable to get hard for her. Even his soft cock made her wild, and she diligently did what she could to nurse it to a half chub, before it twitched, and coughed a sour load into her inexperienced mouth. Even with everything wrong with that night those years ago, she looked back fondly. She had stolen back across the river to her own room, and had to bite a pillow to keep her parents from hearing her moan as she experienced what was still the best orgasm of her life, her fingers stained on the cunt she had lovingly prepared to be plowed by one of the St. Bart’s boys. Her quivering womanhood was left unsatisfied but temporarily placated.  


Clover caught herself damn near drooling when she pulled herself back to reality. He probably doesn’t want to say anything. She thought. She was afraid to move her hand, partially because that would signal to Wolf that she knew, and partially because she wanted to keep watching him grow, every heartbeat pushing the head, the foreskin now retracted, harder into the stretched fabric of his underwear. His slit was visible as a small divot in the fabric, the color of his purple head just barely visible. There was the smallest wet spot forming at the tip of his penis, and she fucking yearned. She wanted to give in, right then, and pull down the waistband- nay, to be even more expedient and simply slip the shaft out of the short leg of the tight boxers- and place the swollen, angry head of his penis on her waiting, salivating lips. She wanted to taste his salty precum and drive him into her mouth. To show him that she was ready, all of her practice on her slick-stained hairbrush gone to good use. She wanted to be a suck slut for him, worthy of his manly thickness.  


Pulled back again by the sound of the AC unit kicking in, she quickly withdrew her hand, and walked swiftly from the room. She walked, businesslike, to the nearest bedroom and had to fight to slow her arms as she closed the door, so as not to slam it. Clover shed her sweaty suit, forced one of her bra cups aside, and started playing with a nipple, the stimulation a relief to her teased, ready body. Her gloved hand, the same one that moments ago had lay beneath Wolf’s arousal, pinched, and then rolled over the hard bud that protruded from the generous lump of Clover’s breast. She smelled the back of the glove. It smelled like Wolf. His sweat, his cock, his precum, and a little bit of his dried, copper-smelling blood. She peeled off the glove, throwing it across the bedroom. You’re not a fucking pervert, Clover. She admonished herself, stripping her panties to her ankles, dropping to her knees and pushing her fingers between her legs. She managed to work in two fingers before crawling over to the glove and putting it below her nose again. Fuuuuuck. Clover did everything she could to suppress her moans as she worked her aching wetness. There was a lot she could do. Growing up in a small home had made her awfully good at keeping her pleasure to herself. The sparks that flew through her nerves were dulled to raspy breaths and muttered swears by the time they reached her mouth. She worked up to three fingers, and started on a fourth. He’s still thicker than that. Her dainty fingers weren’t cutting it. She needed more. She needed his thick cock, with every ridge and vein and the motion of his foreskin as he pumped into her. She needed his hands, his rough, thick, strong fingers wiggling inside her. She needed his rubberized Mechanix gloves holding her slight arms fast to his bed as he fucking came in her. She needed his swedish accent to call her horrible names as he slapped her and fucking worked that vulgar length of meat into her, stretched her internal organs out, thinning her tissues like they were fabric of his underwear. She needed his cock to challenge her. Her gag reflex, the strength of her hands, the boundaries of her pussy, the malleability of her ass- she almost stopped at the thought. She never really considered giving a man her ass before. She’d explored it with a finger or two, but it was unpleasant. Wolf’s cock, however, could have what it wanted. It wasn’t about being stretched back there, it was about him. Feeling his pulsing cock against her anal walls- she slipped a slick finger up her ass, and started on her clit with her left hand.  


She wanted him with his mask off, so she could see his face grow red and contort as he came in her eager cunt. Nay- that wouldn’t do him justice. Wolf was a scary man, and she wouldn’t want to see him vulnerable like that. She wanted to fuck him with his demon mask on, and cum her immortal soul out on the cock of her own personal mancubus. Clover was so overwhelmed with thought after thought, fantasy after fantasy, that she hardly noticed the position she was in. Her face was on the beat-up wooden floor, her ass was in the air, cheeks parted by a thrusting hand. Her left hand was furiously rubbing her clit. Her efforts to suppress her moans were wasted, as the noise from both her holes grew loud enough to reach Wolf. She removed her left hand from her pussy, wanting to give her clit a break. She didn’t want to cum too fast. She ran her drenched left hand down her body, wishing the wetness was Wolf’s sticky seed. She left a trail down her face, her neck, her tits, imagining the heat of the splash of Wolf’s genes on her body. She ran it over her tummy, imagining a white pool in her belly button, and over her thighs. She imagined his soft groan, holding back, just as she always did. His pulsing cock in her hand as she directed his spurts on her body. She finally returned her hand to her pussy, the holy grail. In that moment, nothing was more alluring than the imagined sensation of Wolf emptying his heavy balls into her fertile womb. As her fingers ran over her clit, Clover could feel the familiar wave of pleasure flowing over her, and began to shudder, her bare knees scraping the floor as she collapsed onto her side, her thighs tightly squeezing the hand in her crotch, her anus puckering around the fingers that penetrated it. Her fingers on both ends slid out with wet sounds in stereo, and suddenly the exhaustion of the last 34 hours hit her like a train.

* * *

Clover awoke in the early morning, probably no later than three or four a.m. She realized she was a sweaty mess on the floor, and got up to walk to the bathroom. Pulling up her panties and adjusting her mangled bra back around her tits, she prepared herself to walk across the living room to the small room in the corner. As she opened the door, hair disheveled, smelling like sex and not much else, Wolf turned his head to her. If she expected a quick orgasm on the safehouse floor to kill her lust, she was fucking retarded. Wolf’s piercing swedish eyes slowly looked her up and down, her firm body in her simple, practical undergarments. Her bra was plain and white, but her panties were slightly embellished with floral patterns. She crept across the creaky floor before him, feeling his eyes, the warm sensation in her hips rising again. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want a complicated relationship with the man, she wanted to be an object to him. She wanted to be stripped naked, spread in front of him with a bow tied on her clit, for his leisurely consumption. She wanted to be his. She wanted more than she had ever had before.  


She was just another Reinbeck 880 in Gage’s trunk. Handed over from amateur to amateur before finding Wolf. She wanted to be in his strong hands. She wanted him to strip her down and clean her off, to take this neglected shell and put her back together as his. She wanted to be an extension of his body, just like the shotgun. To be prepped for him with his thumb sliding in and out of her underside. To shudder in his arms as he put hot load after hot load through her. To be challenged, her tight, dirty chamber put through pressures it had never faced before. She wanted to spend the hot summer days with him pumping her, and pumping her, and pumping her. She wanted to scream for him, to let all of DC know that a man was engaged in the simple, carnal acts he was born for. She wanted to be his companion, his trusted one, his bitch, his good, faithful girl. She fought her lust back as she made her way across the floor. Wolf turned his head toward her.  


“Clover” Her heart stopped  


“Y-yes Wolf?”  


“I’m cold, come here” Wolf said firmly. As Clover walked over, giddy, she berated herself for leaving the man without a blanket. She sat on the wide couch next to Wolf and delicately dropped a hand down to his chest. The skin was cool, the night air’s chill rolling over it. Clover put her legs up on the couch, lay down, and stared at the side of Wolf’s face. His mask was still on. She laid her arm over his chest and pulled herself into him, pushing her tits against his arm. She put her leg over his hips, smothering his growing erection with her thigh. The back of his hand lay between her legs, making her pussy glow again with the warmth that only hours ago had transformed her into a brainless bitch in heat. It took what willpower she had to not hump his hand, and grind her arousal-soaked panties on him. She could feel something hard on the back of his hand press into her clit. The sensitive skin of her leg could feel every millimeter that his cock grew, and again she could feel his heart beat. Resting her head on his breast, she could hear the steady thump too. She waited.  


“You can feel me on your thigh?” Wolf said, in a full, but not loud voice  


“Yes”  


“Then you know what I want”. Clover almost leaped with excitement as the chance to get the cock that was heating her inner thigh emerged before her. “But, Clover, I’m a married man”. Right. How could she forget. The memory of that small fact came back to her no faster than the realization that the hard spot rubbing on her swollen, needy clit was Wolf’s wedding ring. Fuck that dumb bitch. If Clover had cuffed the man laying next to her, she wouldn’t have let him out of her sight. Robbing banks and rubbing his fucking juicy cock on dumb slags in run down safehouses. Only two kids. Clover remembered. What a fucking waste. If this man, this meat, was hers, she’d greet him home face down on the bed, “Breeding slave” scrawled on her ass in marker, and she’d spend her days just anticipating when he’d return to her, to pump her full with child after child. The very thought of it gave her goosebumps. His loaded cock was laying beneath her thigh, burning hot through Wolf’s underwear, and it was fucking ready.  


“Please Wolf” Clover pleaded, “Please, just let me see it”. She waited patiently for a response. For what felt like minutes, none came. Clover, desperate for any stimulation, began to lightly grind against Wolf’s wedding band. She reached down to his waistband and undid his belt, before sliding his tattered pants to his knees. She then reached up and lightly gripped his cock over the soft cotton that covered it. Fuck, I can barely get my hand around it. She began to lightly play with it, softly stroking it, before pulling back, and running circles around the base of the head with her finger. She traced her fingertip from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, and began to tap on the moist tip slowly. She built up her pace until the wet spot under her finger began to grow. She transferred the cock to her left hand and brought her right to her nose. She sniffed it deeply, savoring what could be the last time she ever got to smell Wolf’s precum. She then touched her fingertip to her tongue, and closed her mouth around it. She squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to find something special in the salty, musky flavor of Wolf’s emission. It was fairly bog-standard. That didn’t stop Clover from putting on a show of it, sucking her finger for all it was worth. When her right hand returned to relieve her lazily pumping left, it didn’t fuck around with this junior high, over the pants bullshit. She dug under and pulled Wolf’s cock from under the elastic. It hit his chest, just right of the bruise, with a meaty slap. That slap fucking doubled her arousal. Her legs clamped, forcing them down around Wolf’s good thigh. Still straddling that thigh, Clover mounted Wolf and stared down at the cock before her. She could feel it, so close, so intimate. Her cocklust grew again. Every tiny feature of the cock enamored her. The musk, the deep color of the head, the tiny, clear drop of precum at the tip, the sheer girth of it. Fuck, the girth. She’d really have to unhinge her jaw for this one. Clover lowered her head, enjoying the intensity of the smell as she got closer. She stuck her tongue out, and, head between Wolf’s thighs, balanced one of his large, heavy balls on her tongue. She left a trickle of saliva as she moved to his other nut. She traced the seam of his sack up his shaft, as slowly as she could bear. The heat, the salty flavor, Wolf’s complete silence. It all drove her crazy. She started licking the frenulum, putting as much effort as she could into her task, trying to make Wolf react. She had practiced, of course, maintaining eye contact while sucking cock. It was hard to do, to stare at something as mundane as a face while something as interesting and complex as a hard cock was inches from her eyes. Wolf didn’t meet her pupils, as most men did. He continued to stare expressionless at the ceiling. He wouldn’t welcome adultery but he wouldn’t prevent it either. His heart rate didn’t lie. Each pulse of blood through his cock was forceful and fast, sometimes confusing Clover as to whether he was coming or not. Her lips met in a kiss at his tip. She withdrew an inch, and let a small droplet of spit fall on the head before spreading her lips around it. She started to force her mouth down on the thick cock, welcoming it into her throat as her small mouth was filled, and her practice pushing her tonsils aside with various phallic objects came to use. She didn’t choke or gag, but simply pushed his cock past the end of her throat, her tongue extended over her teeth so it could lightly touch his scrotum. She reached the end of his shaft and pressed her nose into his lower chest. When she withdrew, a long string of spittle trailed from her mouth to his cocktip, and it fell across her titties. Clover looked down at the shiny strand and remembered to give Wolf something to look at. She quickly unclasped her bra and threw it aside before impaling her head again on his cock. Her heavy tits knocked against Wolf’s hairy thighs, the nipples feeling every strand brush against them. She repeated her journeys to the base of the thick member over and over again, until her chest was laced with her drool. The appetizing warmth and earthy, lusty musk of his cock made her drool like a pup presented with a juicy steak. She withdrew his cock back past her tonsils one last time, and admired the shiny, sloppy head. She lowered her mouth to the side of the shaft again, and began passionately making out with it. She lay kiss after desperate, breathy kiss on his cock, worshipping it. She reached the tip again, and diligently licked his slit, wanting every taste of him she could get. She fondled his balls with one warm hand and groped at her left tit with the other, squeezing until it hurt. She was fucking ready. Her pussy was dripping, wet and loose enough for the man’s thickness. She threw her leg over him, and straddled Wolf. She rubbed the spit-shined head on her tummy, the burning hot tip driving her wild. She stared down into his eyes, asking him permission to let him take her. He didn’t move. She closed her eyes and rubbed his head on her pussy lips, relishing the stimulation on her poor, neglected kitty.  


Wolf’s hand pressed a plastic package on her slick tummy. No no no fuuuck. Clover felt a wave of anguish wash over her.  


“Please Wolf, let me have you raw. I-I need it”. He pressed the condom harder into her. “Please...I’m on the pill I swear”. Clover lied. The hormones made her go through mood swings, something not desirable for someone in her line of work. “Ok, ok I’m not, but today’s a safe day”. Again, a lie. Just inches from his sperm, a fertile egg lay in her womb, waiting for him. It needed to receive his seed.  


“No”. The one word from Wolf’s mouth cursed her. She wanted to scream at him, to beat on his chest and sob. She could take responsibility. She had money. She could raise Wolf’s bastard- nay, his bastards, she wanted twins- on her own, back in Ireland. Pull yourself together, it wouldn’t be fair to the lads, they need a father. Clover had already decided they would be boys. Seamus and Finn. Her future dissipated before her as she soberly tore open the package and rolled the damned rubber over his cock. It wouldn’t be the same. She wanted his skin against her walls. She not only wanted the veins, but every tiny, imperceptible line and ridge to be felt in her pussy. She wanted to feel his sticky cum flood her insides. Praying it would break or be too small, she was devastated again when the ring reached the base of his cock. Her spit sealed inside, his cock moved inside the rubber. His foreskin and pulse and all the things that should be hers. The sperm, the children, sealed away by mere nanometers of latex. Craving still, she slipped the head inside of her. It slowed down as the resistance of her pussy caught up with her, and she had to start easing her body weight down to get it deeper. Every inch of her channel it traveled, her arousal grew, until slowly, she bottomed out on his pelvic mound. Her pelvis pressed tightly to his, their chests touching, her heavy breasts feeling his pulse which should have been inside of her, she stopped and savored that which she had. The tip of his cock was close to her womb, almost touching her cervix. Her clit ground against his mound. She withdrew quickly and shoved her hips back down, slowly building up to a brisk rhythm. She knew she should take her time. This would probably never happen again. She pressed her chest into his, almost hugging him, as she moved her hips fervently. She could hear the wet shlick of his cock separating her, stretching her, but not hurting her. She could smell her juices coating the latex. The fucking latex. Stretched on the thick meat inside of her, it was already stressed. Maybe if she worked his cock hard enough it would break. Clover set about riding Wolf harder and harder, going faster than she found pleasurable, trying to rip the rubber. She reached for the torn packet to read the brand. Maybe it was one of the cheap, shitty ones that the St. Bart’s boys would buy. Fuck. Trojan. Spermicidal. Wolf was no miser. She broke a sweat pounding her hips up and down, and her soft brown hair stuck to her face. Her breath came in gasps. She was close, but had spent enough time in her home riding the edge that she confidently toed it now. She relieved her clit of it’s friction with Wolf, and started taking shallower strokes. Wolf had yet to react. She sat up, and leaned back on his cock, forcing the top of his head against the top of her insides. Her tits sagged back down into contact with her chest, resting heavily on her ribs. Wolf’s meat made a slight bulge in the front of her tummy, and she watched it as it moved up and down inside of her. She stopped moving her hips to stave off orgasm, and began doing kegels, clenching her pelvic muscles and tightening her already firm grip on Wolf’s cock. Wolf moaned softly. Energized, Clover forced herself to move her muscles faster and harder, to milk his cock dry inside of her.  


“Oh fuck yes, come on, fucking spray it in me, get me pregnant” Clover moaned. Wolf looked at her questioningly. Clover leaned back over him, and resumed her quick humping as she felt the beginning of Wolf’s orgasm twitching in his rod. She leaned into his ear. “Just let me pretend Wolf. Just let me at least pretend you’re giving me what I need”. She felt herself coming close to orgasm again as she felt Wolf’s cockhead grind against her guts. She was sprinting over the edge of a cliff taller than she had ever been over before, and she was hit by a wave of pleasure that rode up out of her pussy, through her chest and ass, and down her thighs. She started shaking. She was hit by the second wave before the first was finished, and this too seemed to travel out of her pussy to the rest of her body. She felt the tip of the condom, buried inside her, grow hotter than it had ever been. Fuck, he’s cumming. She thought of his millions of sperm, so close to her womb, her fertile ovum begging for them as they hit the latex and filled the tiny rubber tip of the condom, so much less than the warm, fleshy home that they deserved. She continued to gently rock on Wolf’s cock, milking it as spurt after spurt filled the condom. Each twitch was like heaven, an affirmation that she, Clover, had made the beast cum. The twitches in their mated genitals grew weaker, as clover panted on the noble, unresponsive man’s chest. Wolf’s cock stayed hard for what felt like an eternity, before slowly creeping from her, almost tickling her as the sheer latex began to wrinkle. The cock popped out with a dull schlop, and Clover rolled on to her side, burying her face in Wolf’s neck. His cock lay on his chest, as beautiful as ever. She reached down, and grabbed the tip, full of warm cum. She pinched it, and pulled the condom from his cock. She thought for a while, about drinking the lukewarm, spermicide-tainted jism, before chastising herself, and throwing it onto the floor for Huston to clean up later. She lightly stroked Wolf’s cock, the foreskin beginning to occlude his gorgeous head. As she made one firm up-stroke, a white pearl appeared at the tip. She stopped stroking and stared at it, considering scooping it with a finger into her exhausted pussy. She relented, and plucked it, bringing it to her lips. Licking it off, she savored the taste. Better than her other boys, by far.  


Still, Clover was left unsatisfied. It was over. Wolf would go back to his wife, and they would probably never repeat what they had just done. She lay next to him, growing cold, until he placed an arm over her. The weight of the muscular arm pushed her down into the couch cushions. She felt snug, secure. His callused hand gently grabbed her ass. She snuggled into him. It was alright. Even if she wasn’t going to be his to breed, his to cherish, she could still be his to protect. It was as much as Clover needed.


End file.
